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Night And Day

 The innocent, sweet Day is dead.
Dark Night hath slain her in her bed.
O, Moors are as fierce to kill as to wed! -- Put out the light, said he.
A sweeter light than ever rayed From star of heaven or eye of maid Has vanished in the unknown Shade.
-- She's dead, she's dead, said he.
Now, in a wild, sad after-mood The tawny Night sits still to brood Upon the dawn-time when he wooed.
-- I would she lived, said he.
Star-memories of happier times, Of loving deeds and lovers' rhymes, Throng forth in silvery pantomimes.
-- Come back, O Day! said he.

Poem by Sidney Lanier
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